


Ficlets in LoVe

by BryroseA



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BryroseA/pseuds/BryroseA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short ficlets posted for @loganandveronica's Logan and Veronica Appreciation Week over on Tumblr. Each "chapter" is a separate ficlet that stands on its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> These have all been posted over on Tumblr; I'm X-posting them here just to keep track of them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LVAW: Day 1 - Favorite Episode;** It was hard to pick a favorite L/V episode, but I eventually settled on my all time favorite episode overall, 1x21: A Trip to the Dentist. From the low-lows of rape accusation to the giddy highs of Logan telling off the 09ers, through their naively sweet make out session and then right back down into the basement of mistrust, this one has it all. Logan POV ficlet ahoy!

Logan’s stomach is in his shoes as he stares at the closed front door of Veronica’s apartment.

 _She was—she was—_  his mind shies away from completing the thought and he moves robotically away from the door and toward his car.

He is in knots. She has him in knots. This was supposed to be a little nothing. A few sublime make out sessions, a hot secret, just him and Lilly’s best friend doing god only knows what. But then…then it wasn’t. Then she was there and he couldn’t shake her—realized he never had been able to shake her—and then there was the date that wasn’t. Him alone on his father’s yacht with a dark pit of anger and agony churning once again in his stomach; all the more savage for its brief absence.

Images of Veronica crowd his mind’s eye. Age twelve, in her soccer uniform; pink and virginal in her homecoming dress; tough as nails in plaid and boots; pale and fierce in her robe, accusing him of—Logan bends over and pukes violently into the bushes that line the front of the apartment complex.

Shaking, hunched at the waist, he swipes a hand across his mouth, bile burning at the back of his throat.

 _Veronica_.

He spits a few times, but the bitter taste won’t leave his mouth. It may not ever leave his mouth.

He hasn’t really let himself think about his feelings for her. Nothing beyond how good it was when she was wrapped around him. Nothing beyond how fucking electric it felt in her arms. All he knows is that after one kiss— _God, that kiss_ —watching others torture her went from being good old-fashioned fun to unbearable in about a nanosecond.

Now, here, hunched over the bushes of a seedy, low-rent apartment complex, with his own vomit flecking his shoes, Logan is forced to face facts.  _I’m falling in love with her._ The swooping feeling in his gut might almost be exhilaration except that it’s followed closely by another thought.  _She’s never going to let me touch her again._  Already his fingertips ache at the loss.

He flashes to a vial of GHB, a drink.  _Could it have been?_ He shakes his head with utter conviction. _Duncan would never; even high. Not the white knight._ He feels sick to his stomach all over again. All that time, all of those months of him joking about the swim team, and trailer trash, and her mom and she’d been…

A shudder runs through Logan and he shakes like a dog flinging off water. He stares blankly at his reflection in the XTerra’s tinted window for a long moment then creakily climbs into the driver’s seat and sits there, fixating on his hands on the steering wheel.

_All I want to do is protect her. I’ll fix this. What can I do to fix this?_


	2. Crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LVAW — Day 2: Favorite Parallels;** LoVe reunions: 3x10: Show Me The Monkey and the Veronica Mars Movie; [Original post](http://bryrosea.tumblr.com/post/92040254990/gif-source-3x10-movie-lvaw-day-2-favorite) with accompanying gifs.

**She wakes up on the couch-bed in startling blackness. The room is darker than usual; did someone close the blinds? She reaches out for him, but the sheets are cool. He’s not there. After everything that’s happened tonight, surely he knows that she…surely he wouldn’t leave her now?**

_He is on the couch and the suite has never seemed emptier. It has been almost two months, but ghosts of her still lurk everywhere. The breakup was the right thing. He knows it was the right thing to do. He can’t be who she wants and she doesn’t want him enough to try to change his mind. She doesn’t want him at all._

**Rustling in the kitchen draws her attention and relief floods her. He didn’t leave; he’s just in the other room. The lingering fear is enough for her to haul her tired body out of bed. Once up, she strips off her tight, chafing clothes. She stretches leisurely and roots through her laundry pile, pulling out a blue sleep shirt. Then, there’s a sound from the hallway. Mmm…finally, he’s coming back to the bedroom. No. No! The footsteps are moving toward the door.**

_A knock at the door. Who the hell could that be? He didn’t order room service. Dick has a key. She has a key, not that she’d ever use it again. He stares into the distance, considering. Maybe if he just ignores it, whoever it is will go away. Then the knock comes again._

**She rushes out through the hall—empty—through the kitchen—empty—and finally into the living room. There he is. Hand on the door.**

_Crossing the room, every line of his body weary, he opens the door._

**He is leaving. No! “Wait.”**

_She is there. His mind is a jumble of Yes! No._

**He stares at her from across the room, expectant and open. He knows what this is; has to know. Why won’t he say something. Do something?**

_She stares at him, longing writ large across her features. Her eyes are eloquent, but she is silent, silent. What are you doing here? What do you want?_

**“Don’t go.”**

_Her eyes plead. He can’t do this again—not with her, not tonight—but, god, he wants to. He’s so damn weak. Weak for her always._

**“Okay,” he says, but he is still. Her whole being pleads with him. Read my mind, dammit. Tell me what I want. She sure as hell doesn’t know. I want… I want… She moves.**

_Then she is in motion, flinging herself toward him. She crosses the threshold and she is in his arms. Frantic. Needing. God, need her so much._

**She reaches him and he grasps her, drawing her in. Finally. Finally. He picks her up, swinging her around in a spin and a well-remembered giddiness floods her.**

_Their lips meet. She is…_

**They are breathing each other in. He is…**

_They are_

**We are**

_crashing_

**crashing together.**

_Arms gripping,_

**Muscles trembling,**

_drinking her in again,_

**finally.**

_It’s been so long,_

**After all this time,**

_here again,_

**together,**

_for now._

**for good.**


	3. Addicts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LVAW: Day 3 - Favorite Season;** I struggled with this one so much. What is my favorite LoVe season? The Season 1 enemies to friends to make out to accusations arc? Season 2’s snark, banter and UST? Season 3 where they actually got to be in a freaking relationship for a while? Could. Not. Decide. This fic is what resulted.

Season 1

_Great._  Ten minutes between class and when she needs to be at Mars Investigations and the line at the Hut is snaking out the door. 

Veronica steps up to the end of the line, the toe of her boot tapping impatiently. _Life would be so much easier if I weren’t a caffeine addict._

Suddenly she feels a small thrill of awareness. She knows exactly what it portends and looks up just as Logan Echolls stalks toward her; his eyes locked on her, sneer planted on his face. Veronica meets his gaze directly, not backing down. She’s done backing down to anyone. Any time. 

As he passes her, Logan makes a kissing motion with his lips—her stomach flips,  _with disgust, I’m sure_ —and deploys a complicated flourishing hand gesture that Veronica doesn’t know the meaning of. When they were— Before. Before, she used to tease him about his gestures. Now the only thing she’s sure of is that the seemingly random arrangement of his fingers likely means something nasty in teen boy.

Logan brushes close enough by her that she can smell a whiff of his cologne and then he’s gone. So why does she still feel the burn of his eyes between her shoulder blades?

Season 2

Veronica turns a harried circle behind the counter at the Hut, looking for the pitcher of creamer.  _Where is…?_ When she completes her revolution, Logan Echolls is there, draped across the counter-top, appearing suddenly as though conjured from thin air.

He raises his eyebrows at her and drums a complicated tattoo on the countertop with his hands. Gathering herself internally, Veronica conjures up her best bored waitress. She brandishes a carafe, smackingly chews some invisible gum, and asks, “Cawfee, hon?”

Logan smirks back at her, brown eyes smoldering. “Only if you’re out of…” He looks her up and down, “…everything else hot.”

Veronica wordlessly pours him a tall coffee and pushes the creamer jug (which seems to have magically appeared— _seriously, is he magic?_ ) across the counter at him.

Season 3

The line for coffee in the Hearst Student Union is thankfully—if uncharacteristically—short. It’s great for Veronica and Logan’s chances of making it to their classes on time, but doesn’t leave much time for them to engage in what is fast becoming their traditional argument over who will pick up the check. 

As they reach the cash register, Veronica hip checks Logan and, while he is momentarily off balance, tells the barista in her best John Wayne, “I’d like to treat the little lady here. Two tall coffees with cream.” 

Logan steps up behind her and drops a kiss on her head. “The perks of being a kept man.”

As they walk away from the counter, Veronica can see the argument brewing in his eyes. “Don’t say a word, Logan. You’ve gotten, like, the last five. It has to be my turn sometimes.”

Logan’s lips compress and he grabs her hand, tangling their fingers together. “Veronica, come on. Why won’t you let me? You know it isn’t anything to me.”

Veronica squeezes his fingers briefly then tugs hers free. “It is to me.”

Movie

“There’s a drive through coffee place off this exit. Do you mind if I swing through and pick up a cup? It’s been a long day.”

Veronica glances over at the man sitting in the driver’s seat. His uniform reminds her that he visited with the Navy lawyers this morning before driving over an hour to pick her up at the airport. Also, his ex-girlfriend was murdered five days ago and he’s the chief suspect.  _He has had a long day._

“Sure!” she says brightly in the non-threatening we’re-just-friends tone she’s been practicing mentally since he called her.

Logan pulls off the freeway easily, his motions smooth and elegant. Controlled. Intense. Muted. She keeps trying out adjectives as they pull into the drive-through and he orders; trying to get a handle on this new Logan (and his absolutely panty-dropping car). She just…can’t.

Veronica blinks herself out of her reverie and notices that, transaction complete, Logan is now pulling away from the drive-through.

Apparently, while she was lost in her thoughts, he ordered her a coffee too. He holds it out to her now, wordlessly. Just as wordlessly, she takes it, cupping it between her hands. The warmth isn’t necessary on this balmy Southern California night, but it is comforting, nonetheless. She takes a sip.

It’s got the perfect amount of cream.

Post-movie

“Veronica?” His rough, sleepy voice comes floating out of the bedroom.

Veronica smiles to herself as she blows across the top of her mug of coffee to cool it down. “In the kitchen!” she yells back.

A moment later, Logan comes padding into the kitchen in his boxers, scratching absently at his bare abdomen. “Mmm…coffee smells good.” He comes up behind her and hugs her around the waist, nuzzling at her hair and kissing her neck, warm and smelling of sleep. “You’re up early. What gives?”

“Early client meeting.” Veronica leans back into him. “Remind me why I’m doing this again? I swear this job never lets me get a full night’s sleep.”

Logan chuckles, propping his chin on her head. “I thought that was me.” He swings her around, laughing as she shriekingly tries to prevent the coffee from flinging all over both of them and the kitchen.

“Logan! You’ll spill it!”

“Don’t worry,” he growls. “We can make more.” 


	4. See Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LVAW: Day 4 - Favorite Book Quote**

> “Logan had seen through her; that was one of the reasons she loved him. He could tell her things she couldn’t bear to tell herself sometimes.”
> 
>       — _The Thousand Dollar Tan Line_

**See Through**

“Veronica. You know she didn’t leave because of you, right?” Even through the Skype window, Veronica looks small and lost all of a sudden. It’s a look that only talk of her mother brings on. Logan hates Lianne fiercely for coming back like this. For not coming back before. Veronica doesn’t respond. He tries again. “Veronica, you were better off with your dad than with anyone weak enough to leave you like that.”

The connection is frozen.

“Are you there?” Logan smacks the side of the computer. Nothing. “Veronica, are you there?”

He jiggles the wires connecting the laptop in desperation. Sometimes it works, “Veronica? If you can hear me, stay there. I want to talk about this.”

Silence, but her image is still there on the screen. Then it’s pieces of her. The strip containing her lips and chin pixilates then repeats itself over the bottom half of the screen five times. Five of Veronica’s lips, but none of her.

Then blackness.

“Dammit,” Logan says softly, slumping in defeat. He knows from long experience that once the Skype connection goes there is no way he’ll be able to get it restored before his computer time is up. Better to give his slot up early and let Cheese—waiting eagerly behind him to talk to his wife and baby—fiddle with it. 

Logan walks back through the boat, ducking his head automatically to avoid pipes as he maneuvers down the crowded hallways. The soft red lights used on the upper levels to help maintain night vision highlight the frustration on his face.

Veronica keeps so much in. He’s willing to bet she hasn’t talked to anyone about this. Never mind the fact that Mac or Wallace or even Keith would talk about it with her in a heartbeat. Never mind the fact that she  _knows_  her life was better, happier, and more stable with her dad. He can still see how much it hurts Veronica, deep down, to think about Lianne all cleaned up and happy in her new life; escaping from the sludge she left Veronica to claw her way out of on her own.

Logan knows all about how hard it is to reason with that inner child still trying desperately to love an unworthy mother. He sighs as he reaches his rack, climbs in, and rolls himself into the narrow space, sliding his privacy curtain closed.  _I know Veronica._

She hasn’t talked about it with anyone. No, Veronica Mars has to be strong for everyone; be strong for the world. Her strength is one of the reasons he loves her, but it makes him ache for her sometimes. 


	5. Riding In Cars With Veronica Mars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LVAW: Day 5 - Favorite Friendly Moment;** Logan and Veronica’s high five from 2x17: Plan B

**Riding in Cars with Veronica Mars**

“So…stakeout?”

Veronica rolls her eyes at the sight of Logan giving her his patented fake cheery grin from the passenger seat of her LeBaron. He must have actually been listening when she explained how to jimmy a car door during one of their make-out sessions last summer.

“Damn. I thought those door locks were supposed to keep out unwanted guests.” She shrugs, climbing in to the driver’s seat, not fully facing him. “Oh well, back to the factory it is.”

“Or  _maybe_ ,” Logan lays an index finger against his chin thoughtfully, “it’s a sign that I’m not as un- _want_ -ed as one might suppose.” He leans in to her, eyes glinting.

Logan’s eyebrow game is strong this afternoon, Veronica notes as she readies her next quip. “Your old felony charges aren’t doing it for ya? Going to try to add B&E to your repertoire?”

“Well, you know, in for a penny…” Logan waves his hand insouciantly. “No I thought, just for kicks of course, that you might want some help picking Pedro the Good Samaritan driver out of a line up.”

Veronica shoots him a calculating look. “You’re sure you’d recognize him if you saw him?”

Logan gives a short nod, an unreadable expression on his face.

Veronica sighs. “All right then, Public Enemy Number One, you’re on.”

He adjusts an invisible hat on his head and points a finger forward at the windshield, “Drive, Jeeves.”

Veronica starts the car and pulls out of the lot, “You know, Jeeves was the butler.”

“And you’re the driver!” Logan exclaims, clapping his hands together in overly exaggerated excitement. “Riding in cars with Ver-on-i-ca Mars” He sing-songs it carefully, testing each syllable as it comes out. “Hmm. It’s catchy! It could be the name of your autobiography.” He spreads his hands out in an expansive gesture, spanning the title across an invisible marquee.

Veronica’s lips quirk, “Ah, yes. My adoring public will flock to read it. The chapters about waitressing at the Hut will leave them gasping for more. Whoever will play me in the inevitable made-for-TV adaptation?”

“Mmm…Halle Berry?”

Veronica snorts involuntarily. They shoot each other amused looks, banter standards firmly established, and continue the drive in relatively comfortable silence.

They arrive at San Diego Seafood and Veronica pulls into a relatively dark corner of the lot that gives them a good view of the loading docks.

Logan is expectant and jumpy, his fingers drumming on his thighs. “Now what?”

“Now, oh impatient one, we wait.”

“We  _wait_!? No fake names? No disguises? No clever ploy to infiltrate the office and get a peek at their employment records?”

Veronica shoots Logan an amused glance, “Sorry, Lucy. This is just a stakeout.” She hands him a thermos filled with the Hut’s best coffee. “Here’s your tools. Go to town and stay sharp.”

“Always,” Logan mutters, slumping down in his seat disappointedly.

They pass the next forty-five minutes, waiting for the delivery trucks to return, batting movie quotes and snark back and forth. It is warm and comfortable in the car, with the LeBaron’s back window rolled down slightly to let in the evening breeze.

Logan laughs three times; Veronica counts against her will. It’s his real, high pitched gasp of surprise laugh, not the cruel sarcastic version she’s been hearing for two years.

They’re playing Six Degrees of Bernadette Peters—the musical theater equivalent of Six Degree of Kevin Bacon and one of Lilly’s favorite time passers, although neither of them mentions it—when Veronica lands a stumper with Alfie Boe and the game peters out.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, taking in the darkening night and the loading docks in front of them.

Finally, Logan asks, “So this is staking out, huh? It looks sexier in the movies.”

High on their playful banter and tentative truce, Veronica dares a real question; one with no sarcasm or bitterness behind it. “Did you hear anything from Hannah?”

 **“** Does deafening silence count?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lilly Kane’s musical theater prowess is by way of ghostcat3000's most excellent [The Teeth By The Shoulder](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1220431/chapters/2499226), one of my all time faves.


	6. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LVAW — Day 6: Favorite Romantic Moment;** 3x01: Welcome Wagon; Logan gives Veronica his room key. [Original post](http://bryrosea.tumblr.com/post/92422518865/gif-source-lvaw-day-6-favorite-romantic) with accompanying gifs.

**Home**

The first time Veronica uses the keycard, she knocks first. Faintly, though the door, she hears Logan yell, “getting dressed…use your card!” so she does, feeling a thrill of something—unease? excitement?—as the card engages and releases in the slot with a mechanical snick.

The second through fifth times Veronica uses the key card, Logan is also elsewhere in the suite; the bathroom, his bedroom, the balcony. She’s taken to knocking briskly and swiping the card at the same time, so that half the time he’s calling, “Hang on!” as the door swings open.

In bed, after the fifth time, Logan is quiet.  _Annoyed?_  She can tell he wants to say something, but he hesitates, stroking her hair lightly before blurting out into the darkness. “You know, I didn’t give you that keycard just to save myself from walking a few steps to let you in.”

Veronica is thrown off. This is unexpected. “You sure about that, Logan? I’ve seen you throw away perfectly good food because the trash can was closer than the fridge.”

Logan ignores her half-jesting jab, plowing forward. “You can, you know, use it whenever. I mean, even if I’m not here and you want to—”

“Why would I want to be here when you’re not here?”

“I dunno, if you needed a quiet place to study, or some time away from your dad, or…”

“Or?”

“You know, if you wanted to, like, meet me here but I wasn’t…” He is mumbling now, digging himself into a hole he’s not sure he can articulate his way out of. 

He doesn’t know if it’s avoidance or empathy that leads Veronica to change the subject—quickly and decidedly—by moving her hand to a very interesting place on his anatomy. Avoidance, he thinks, but he’s maybe a little grateful for it.

The sixth time Veronica uses the keycard, she is juggling take out Chinese food and her tote. She raises a hand to knock, then lowers it. Hesitantly, she traps the warm bags of egg rolls and kung pao beef between her torso and the wall of the hallway and fishes in her wallet for the white plastic card. She has just barely swiped the card—green light flashing—when Logan yanks the door the rest of the way open.

“Ooh, egg rolls!” He gives her a brief but thorough kiss as he snatches the bags from her. Veronica trails him into the suite, turning the keycard over and over in her hand, pressing the hard plastic edges into the pads of each of her fingers in turn.

The seventh time Veronica uses the keycard, Logan comes back to the suite after his evening Intro to Econ class to find her curled up on the couch, mostly asleep, watching  _The Big Lebowski_.

He stands there just looking at her for a long moment until she blinks up at him sleepily.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” his voice is soft. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight. Short shift at the library?”

“Mmhm.” Veronica holds up a corner of the blanket draped over her and pats the couch invitingly. “You missed the part with the marmot.”

“Can’t have that.” Logan quickly shucks his shoes and flops down beside her. They wrestle briefly over the blanket, before Veronica sleepily gives in and allows Logan to shift her so that he is against the arm of the couch and she is curled into his side. “We’ll just have to rewind.”

Logan flips the blanket over their legs, grabs the remote and kisses the top of her head as they settle in to watch the movie.

“How’d your case go?”

Veronica slings her legs over his lap, yawning. “Oh, you know, turns out the roommate  _was_ actually stealing the DVDs. Who’d a thunk it?”

Logan smiles a little, his fingers playing with the strip of bare skin above her sock. “Another classic mystery solved by the brilliant mind of Veronica Mars.”

She rolls her eyes and deadpans. “Oh the excitement. Oh the danger.”

“Hey, you know what turns me on.”

Logan tickles Veronica’s side lightly and she squirms. Laughing, she elbows him in retaliation and he winces dramatically. “Shh…now. You’re missing it,” she scolds, gesturing at the TV.

They turn their attention to the screen just in time.

“That rug really tied the room together,” they both quote in perfect unison with the movie. 


	7. Drowning Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LVAW: Day 7 - Favorite AU;** Basically, my favorite AU is always going to be one where someone gets a hug they needed and didn’t get in canon. HUGS FOR EVERYONE! So, without further ado, AU of the confrontation scene from 3x07: Of Vice and Men (Logan and Veronica both need a hug). [Original post](http://bryrosea.tumblr.com/post/92524030116/lvaw-day-7-favorite-au) with accompanying screencaps.

**Drowning Together**

Logan bites his lip, running his hands through his hair, “By the time we got out of the room, the fire was spreading. The whole motel was going up in flames. Okay? And, I don’t know, we had to get out of there.”

Veronica is incredulous, disappointment and hurt clouding her features. “You didn’t stick around to try to help? You didn’t see if everyone was okay?”  _You lied to me?_

Logan swallows hard and looks down at the floor, “You know, it’s because of the look on your face right now that I didn’t want to tell you.” Frustrated, he looks straight at her, trying to make her understand, “I did what nine out of ten guys in my situation would have done! I ran.” Veronica can feel the disgust crawling across her face. “So, either Mercer sits in jail here, or he gives his alibi and sits on his ass in some Mexican jail. At least here he’s innocent.”

Jaw set, Veronica spits out the information, “tell Lamb to check the log at the campus radio station. That should get your friend released.”

She turns and starts stalking out of the suite, wrapping her rightness and her hurt around her; taking comfort in the buffer they provide from the turmoil of her other feelings. Just before she leaves the room, a soft noise—an almost whimpering exhale—from behind her makes her turn around. She sees Logan. He is hunched over the bed, propped up on his hands. She thinks she sees a tear roll down the side of his nose.

_He lied._

_He would have kept lying if you didn’t make him fess up._

_He just left all of those people._

_He lied._

Logan straightens up and turns, startled to see her still there. He runs a hand over his face and exhales raggedly. “Veronica…”

Their eyes lock miserably for what seems like an eternity.  _He lied_. Logan bites his lip and nods a little, the look on his face so resigned that it aches. He turns away from her again.

Veronica doesn’t so much soften as crack; she splits wide open.

She sets her bag down by the foot of the bed, toes quietly out of her boots, and shrugs off her denim jacket. As she is reaching under her shirt to unhook her bra, Logan pivots back toward her, hands clenched into fists at his sides, eyes dark with some unnamable emotion. Veronica tosses her bra on the ground and, otherwise fully clothed, pulls back the covers and crawls into Logan’s bed.

He stares at her, still swamped in fear and misery.

Veronica looks up at him, face hard. “Come here.”

Logan draws a deep breath in through his nose and scrambles into bed. He wraps himself around her, limpet-like and buries his face in her shoulder. He is shaking almost imperceptibly, a fine quivering running through his whole body, as they hold each other tightly. Veronica rubs light circles on his back and he grips her t-shirt.

Veronica struggles to make her voice resolute. “I’m still mad.”

He nods. Shakes, relaxes. Shakes, relaxes.

Feelings are buffeting her, she can feel the fierce pounding of Logan’s heart echoing though her. “Furious, actually.”

He nods again, his shaking lessening. He is calming himself down, she recognizes, his hands smoothing up and down her back, centering himself with touch. Minutes tick by in the dark. Logan’s tone is almost even when he finally speaks. “I’m mad too, Veronica. You act like I—”

Perversely, his increasing steadiness collapses her emotional walls even further. “I know. But you l-lied to me.” Her chin is wobbling out of control now, voice quavering.

Logan grips her waist hard, his fingers biting through her t-shirt, the pressure anchoring them together. “No. No! I didn’t lie. I just didn’t…” He trails off and silence settles heavily over them.

Quietly, she finishes, “didn’t tell me the truth.”

“I don’t really expect you to trust me, you know, but—“

Veronica interrupts, her voice low and fierce, “I  _do_  trust you, Logan; in a lot of ways that are very hard for me. I trust you here,” she waves a hand to indicate the bed, “I trust you not to hurt me. I trust you to…see me.” Her voice is almost an inaudible whisper at this point. “I don’t think you understand what a big deal that is for me.”

Logan draws in a big, gasping breath, “I do. I do understand.” It is achingly quiet in the valleys between their statements. The glowing blue headboard casts an eerie glow over the scene.

Veronica continues, determined and anguished, “I just don’t trust you to tell me the truth.” She stiffens a little in his arms, “because you don’t.”

Logan buries his face in her again, his voice muffled against her collar bone. “I’m sorry. I really am. I can’t take it that we’re like this. That I’m like this.”

“Me neither.”

Logan shifts his body a bit so that they lay pressed together, chest to chest, Veronica’s head resting on Logan’s shoulder, their arms circling around each other, clutching.

Helplessly, feather-lightly, Logan kisses the top of Veronica’s head. Her fingers trace light patterns in the small of his back. He breathes into her hair. “Don’t leave, please. Stay here tonight.”

“Okay.”

They lay there for a long time, holding each other silently in the dark.


End file.
